Many years ago (lost count) there’s this small private school in Valenzuela. No one could ever believe that that is a school because of the appearance. How can you ease your doubt if you see geese roaming around, huge rabbits at the back, fishpond near the gate (no fish folks but tadpoles), less than fifteen classrooms, a stage that looks more like a porch, and one janitor? Yup, like everybody says, ‘Private yan?’
It was June 1991, the year we began our new life as highschool, ranges twelve to thirteen years old. The year we met new students, the year we hear weird section names (thought to be a scientific creatures but it’s not), the year public graduates met the privates, the year we saw ‘ang liit nung boy oh’, and the year we all hear our nanay says, ‘Highschool na anak ko.’ How can you forget those first times (not that first time, the other first time)? We feel kinda scared that we might end into that weirdo groupie, the slackers, the genius, the bozos, the notorious, and we might ended up as an outcast too if we’re isolated because neither one of us had no clue.
The Students
We all know each other, I mean, all of us for four years, others more than that. I came from a public school along with my friend. The large percentage between public and privates are neck to neck. I thought I was going to have a hard time at first coping with new faces and new, what you can call, sense of prejudice. But I realized, we are all just kids, all the same, and they, too, tackling the new beginning.
As much like any other kids, we have it all; the Weirdos, nerds, athletes, those with compulsive behaviors, Elites, beauty queens and beauty queen-alike and feeling beauty queen, the hunks, the humbly, the mayabang, the trouble makers, the notorious, the anonymous, the loner, the joker, the siopao moocher, the slurpy wolfers, the Mang Ramon Fanatics, and so on. Our small society of students builds up every year, and every year gained even more; ups and downs, left and right, back and forth. Possibly, endless.
The Teachers
One of our great teachers and, until now, after for so many years she’s still hammering the heads of youngsters just to edify how the world of languages, the history, and the morality of being a great individual really are. She’s handling English, History, and Values Education for numerous number of students for the last two decades (I think), known for her noting question such as ‘Okay?—Alright’, her colleagues calls her Candy (don’t ask), her students calls her… ah…nevermind (baka malintikan tayo). She’ll look at you straight in the eye after catching your drolly eyes. Better straighten that posture or she’ll eat you alive with that double vista of her. How about this teacher with that hard-to-hear tone that you have to smack your seatmate’s head to shut him up just to hear her out, and that steno-like writing on the blackboard that confuses the ‘g’ into a ‘9’? And the legendary Science teacher that gives you chill everytime she asked you a questions like what’s the definition of this-the formula of that, where’s your experiment and explain your conclusion clearly or she’ll make you stand for the rest of the class, dictating all of the notes instead using the board because she’s allergic to chalk, demands to remove the spring of your notebook and replace it with colored yarn or whatever you may call it, cover it with art paper such as blue, red, yellow, and, sometimes, kung mamalasin ka nga naman, the gayest color of all, PINK! However, within her burns the glint of a dedicated teacher. And though she displays her bubbly persona to her colleagues, she utterly hates those who can’t catch up with her—students who can’t buy her rules. And that time one of us was entitled to have that small percentage of idiocy and defying policy. So, therefore, to make things short, she hates us all hahaha.
ARCHIVES
July 16: The Earthquake
Who would ever forget the incident that changed the rest of our country and the rest of our lives? Friday, July 16, 1991—no, we’re not talking about Jose’s birthday—it was the 7.7 Earthquake.
It was field day, or fri-day, or whatever day—basta natatandaan ko may gathering n’on (give me a break guys, it’s more than a decade, ok?). Some of the students already gone from school, others remain when that earthquake trampled Metro Manila and nearby cities. It was a disaster—because we learn how to use the rosary and have its own misteryo hehehe (natawa pa enoh?). They said they hold hands and circled the flag pole, duck at the mud, and the others, well, you know, scream. There’s no cellphone that time to call or text what happened (yeah, yeah, we know, Jurassic na kami), we ended up watching news or focused our ears in the radio. That time, few of us been traumatized, lalong lalo na yung may birthday. Damn that was bad.
Where’s the Heart?
Our school is a sacred Catholic; they teach us how to be a good Christian. One of the students bought this ‘Sacred Heart’ image of the Christ and posts it on the wall of their classroom. Obviously, when you say ‘Sacred Heart’ it emphasized the heart of Christ, which is shown the flaming heart with thorns. However one day, one incident happened, this so-called Heart mysteriously disappeared… I mean, really disappeared—poof gone! And all was left was… well, none. It’s like an error printing of some kind. Some witnesses said it was there few days ago, then viola! And what can you expect from a thirteen year-old boys and girls who witness the disappearing of that so-called miracle? Yup, they whine a lot until the faculty decided to suspend the classes.
The “3×4”
Students who enrolled on our school must now the rules and regulations; the proper hygiene and the proper uniform. We, girls, must wear proper uniform, button sleeves, ribbons and ID’s while boys; black pants, white polo with school logo or patch, all the same. Not unless one week from the monthly exam date is announced. They must do the “3×4” (ask the barbero, he’ll know what to do) or pay the consequence. Have no idea? Try to find MC Hammer’s MTV’s ‘Can’t touch this’. Yup, that’s what I’m talking about.
(to be continued)
